


The Joker and the Thief

by ZombieJesus



Category: Casino (1995), Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blackjack, Casino owner!Mello, Cheating the Devil, Director's cut lmao, Film Noir, HighRoller!Light, Improper use of shinigami eyes, M/M, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, Poker, Ryuk is helpful for once, Secret Shinigami Exchange 2018, Vegas AU Death Note-style, childish and hate to lose, inspired by the movie Casino, light is kira, the House doesn't always win
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieJesus/pseuds/ZombieJesus
Summary: Las Vegas is a playground when you're young, beautiful, and have a shinigami reading you the cards. Light’s on a winning streak, taking Mello’s casino to the cleaners, but greed gets him spotted.They go head-to-head in high-stakes poker, and both cheat like there's no tomorrow.A SFW version was posted on Tumblr for the 2018 Secret Shinigami exchange. This is the "director's cut."





	The Joker and the Thief

**Author's Note:**

> It is not necessary to enjoy the story, but if you want a primer on the card games mentioned here...  
> With blackjack, the point is to beat the dealer/player by getting cards equalling 21, or having a higher value than your opponent without going over 21 (otherwise you bust). Poker is more complicated, but if you don’t know the rules, see [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_hold_%27em).

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the night Yagami Light came walkin’ into my casino like he owned the place, dressed to the nines in something sleek and understated that reeked of easy money. Soon as he stepped through the door the place got quieter, and everybody was thinking the same thing as me: now there’s a pretty mark.

 

I guessed he’d probably come here to the desert like all the rest of the starry-eyed tourists, drawn by the flashing lights, the showgirls, the booze and the games. The dream of walking away rich and burying your problems under sand and glitter. And here we sat like an open Venus Fly Trap luring them in, waiting for each to land, the fatter wallets the better. They’d get stuck of course, get in over their heads like they always do, and that’s when we bleed ‘em dry and spit out their bankrupt husks back to wherever they came from. _Hey, no hard feelings, that was Vegas._

 

Yeah, I remember it well-- me giggling, boots up on the desk and my Toblerone half-melted in my fist as I saw him settle down to the blackjack tables on the monitors. Wondering how long he’d last, or more accurately, how long his money’d last. My guys didn’t even bother pointing the fraud cameras on him, figuring he’d bust in under 30 minutes and go home crying. Well, I got the smirk wiped off my face pretty damn quick when he was up 200 grand in those 30 minutes, winning hand after hand, making the right calls about hits or doubling-down time and time again. No, he didn’t make bets like the usual schmuck, a little at a time and all nervous-like. Uh uh. This asshole was throwing down lavender chips like he already knew the hand, like Midas himself was whispering what to do in his ear! A lucky bastard? I’d been in the game long enough, run this casino and the whole cesspool of the Vegas mafia long enough to know... there was no luck like that.

 

It only got worse the longer I watched. “Jack! Get over here you useless idiot.” Jack Neylon was one of my guys, not the brightest bulb but plenty observant and plenty capable of beating cheaters’ asses. I pointed to the screen when he lumbered over, “Why, pray tell, are you letting THIS happen?” I jabbed my finger at the monitor again as the table exploded with cheers I was glad I couldn’t hear,  men and women now hanging all over Lord Luck as more chips were pushed his way. “This punk is taking me to the cleaners!”

 

Jack grimaced but shrugged, “Eh, I mean...everything looks on the level, boss. We even changed out the dealer, it’s Lenny down there now and you know he can spot a cheat a mile away. Guy’s just lucky.”

 

I hissed at him, “I don’t CARE if Lenny can’t spot it. Nobody is that lucky.” The smug bastard sipped a martini as he won another hand, and flicked a 1k chip to one of his hanger-ons. “Ugggh. Nobody comes into MY casino and cheats right under my nose, got it?” I shoved him towards the door, getting melted chocolate all over his stupid purple suit. “Get your ass down to the floor and find out how he’s doing it! NOW!”

 

“Y-yes boss.”

 

\---------

 

Light smiled at the large pile of chips stacked next to him, mentally calculating his blackjack winnings with smug satisfaction. _$765,825. Not bad for a couple hours work._ The dealer was gritting his teeth across the table, grumbling under his breath as Light blithely tapped the table for another deal. _Probably hoping I’ll go away, but no way. I’m not walking away until I’ve got a million and that’s that._

 

Ryuk phased through several of the chattering onlookers in short sparkly dresses or tuxedos, hovering closer to Light. “Heh heh, um Light-o, think it’s about time to call it a night? No sense in gettin’ greedy.”

 

Light cut his eyes to Ryuk, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. _No way, this is too much fun._ He peeked to look under the two cards on the table in front of him-- 10 of spades and a 7 of hearts, meaning he’d need a card with a value of 4 or below to avoid a bust. _I’m waiting Ryuk, c’mon._

 

The dealer sighed, wondering how much longer he’d have a job after tonight. “Hit or stay?”

 

“Ok moneybags. But you owe me so big.” Ryuk rolled his shinigami eyes and turned them to look at the next card in the deck, speaking it aloud, but only Light could hear him. “Eh….next up is a 3 of clubs.” Then he looked at the dealer’s cards. “And he’s got a jack and a 9.”

 

“Hit me.” Light pulled the card the dealer dealt closer, looking under the edge to confirm Ryuk’s prediction. Of course, it was as correct as all his others. _Nice job Ryuk. That’s 20, and the dealer’s unlikely to take another card on 19._

 

Light’s prediction was right. “House stays.” The dealer flipped over his cards, showing 19 up, then waited for Light to do the same.

 

Light held the dealer’s gaze as he flipped one card and then the other, sighing as if the act of winning had become routine, boring by now. “Twenty.” The table exploded into noisy claps and cheers, and Light gave Ryuk a little smile. _Don’t worry, you’ll get that truckload of apples I promised you. Hell, I’ll buy you an orchard at this rate._ He was about to take a fresh martini being offered to him by a waiter when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

 

“Sir, if you’ll come with me. Special high-rollers table you might be interested in.”

 

Light turned around, scowling at being interrupted during his lucky streak. The person speaking softly to him was an extremely large man in a gaudy purple suit, wearing mirrored sunglasses and a barely-visible earpiece. _What a gauche person._ Light raised an eyebrow and turned back to the table, tapping for another deal. “I think I’d rather not.” But the dealer didn’t deal the cards, and stood still as a shadow watching Mr. Purple.

 

“Sir, I’m afraid I must insist. Don't make me cause a scene.”

 

Light sighed in annoyance, but opened a large leather satchel and swept all his chips into it. _I suppose I’ve been expecting this. But there’s no way they can prove I did anything but get lucky._ He picked up the satchel and motioned dramatically, “Lead the way.”

 

“This way.”

 

Light glanced at Ryuk before following, or really being shoved by, Mr. Purple to the back of the casino to a waiting elevator being held open by another large man. Light adjusted his Armani tie as he tried to yank his elbow away from the goon. “And who are you supposed to be exactly?”

 

Mr. Purple snorted. “Public relations director.”

 

They stepped inside the elevator and Light was beginning to feel slightly nervous as they went up in floors. “Where are we going?”

 

Mr. Purple didn’t look at him, but just stated, “Boss wants to have a nice little chat.” He touched his earpiece and whispered something into it with an ominous tone.

 

Ryuk chuckled quietly, spinning a stolen casino chip in his hand behind the goon’s back. “Guess you’re busted Light-o. Buncha sore losers.” He flicked the chip against the goon’s head, cackling when the man turned around to glower at Light. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya this was a bad idea.”

 

Light said nothing but shot daggers at Ryuk, tightening his grip on the satchel. There wasn’t anything Yagami Light couldn’t talk himself out of. _Especially against a bunch of desert yokels like this._

 

The elevator dinged and Mr. Purple guided Light by the arm into an enormous penthouse above the casino, just as over-decorated and gilded as everything below. Light stumbled forward as the man pushed him, still clutching the satchel, into the middle of a large living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Vegas strip. It would have been a gorgeous view if he didn’t have the distinct feeling he was about to get beaten to a pulp and tossed out into the desert.

 

Mr. Purple gave him a mocking salute and stepped back into the elevator, calling into the room, “He’s all yours.”

 

Light looked sharply from the closing elevator doors to scan the opulent, high-ceilinged room, wondering who the goon was talking to. But he didn’t have to wonder long, as he suddenly felt the press of cold metal to the back of his neck and inhaled a quick breath.

 

“Thought you could cheat me, did you?” The voice was silky smooth but young, with a repressed accent to his English that Light couldn’t quite place. _Eastern European, Russian maybe? Either way, he’s pissed and armed._

 

Light grit his teeth, but maintained his cool. “Is this how you treat all of your guests?” He looked over his shoulder, glaring at the lithe blonde man no older than himself behind him. _Younger probably, no more than 20._ “I’ll be sure to tell all my friends to avoid this casino.” He let a sarcastic smile play on his lips. “Poor service.” To his surprise, the blonde lowered the weapon and laughed hard, waving his gold-plated gun around like it was nothing more than a shiny toy.

 

“You’ve got some balls on you, I’ll give you that.” Mello slinked around Light, looking him up and down as he came to face him. The smile faded as he met Light’s steely gaze. “But, nobody robs MY casino and walks out happy.” He leaned in, whispering in Light’s ear. “In fact, they rarely walk out at all.” Mello stepped back with a vicious smile and collapsed onto a black leather couch, lounging on it like a leather-clad Marie Antoinette. He raised his gun again, motioning with it for Light to sit on the couch across from him. “Hail Mary time.”

 

“Oh, is that your name?” Light sat comfortably on the couch, letting not a hint of nerves betray him. He looked to Ryuk briefly, who whispered, “Mihael Keehl.”

 

Mello grinned, tossing his long bangs out of his face as he dug into the couch cushions. “Ha fucking ha. You first, Thief.” He yanked out a bar of chocolate, ripping into it but never taking his eyes or gun off Light.

 

Light crossed his legs, nonchalantly propping an arm up on the back of the couch. “My name’s Mihael Keehl.”

 

Mello made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and sputtered out a mouthful of chocolate, his eyes bugging as he heard that name spoken aloud for the first time in years. He quickly regained his composure, but his interest in this mystery man had just risen 1000%. “How do you know that name?” He knocked the safety off his gun, raising it slightly as he tilted his head. “Don’t lie.”

 

Light let the smirk that had been hiding at the edge of his mouth spread across his face. “I’m magic.”

 

Mello couldn’t help but smile a little, he was liking this person more and more, and it didn’t hurt that he was also the most attractive person to ever walk into his casino. He pointed the gun to Light’s satchel. “Magic didn’t win you that.” He leaned forward, curious and intrigued. “So how’d ya do it...” He pulled Light’s wallet out of his pants, flipping through it until he pulled his ID. “....Yoshi Tanagawa?” He tossed the ID behind him with a barked laugh. “That’s fake as hell. Tell me your real name.”

 

“And why would I do that with a gun trained on me, my winnings in jeopardy?” Light considered this Mihael Keehl, and thought they really wanted the same thing—an interesting bet. Something all or nothing, amusing enough to let him walk out of here with winnings and kneecaps intact. “How about this? I’m up about 850k. You beat me in cards, and you can have it all back. But if I win….” He looked at Ryuk who winked at him. “...then you push me to a nice even million and I walk out of here, happy as a clam.” He stared at Mello hard. “I. Walk. Out.”

 

Mello inhaled an angry breath, but he couldn’t deny these stakes thrilled him. “Oh you won’t beat ME at cards! You might have those empty-heads downstairs fooled but nuh uh, not me.” He lowered the gun, putting the safety back on. He’d never lost, not when it mattered. Wammy’s didn’t train no fools. “Fine.”

 

Light patted the satchel, feeling confident. “Good. One more thing.” He grinned mischieviously, “Loser gets naked.”

 

Mello bit hard into his bar of chocolate at that, worked it around in his mouth to savor the bitterness, the sweetness. Yeah, he liked this guy, liked this guy a lot. “Deal. House wins either way.” He leaped up from the couch and moved to a card table set up near the window, grabbing the deck of cards that sat atop it and began to shuffle. “Well?”

 

Light laughed softly, but got up, leaving his satchel at the couch and joined Mello at the table. “What’s the game?”

 

Mello popped the cards as he shuffled, flipping them in his hand to cut them a few times. “Texas Hold'em. Kamikaze--one round, winner takes all.”

 

Light let his fingers brush across the green felt of the table. “And loser loses all.”

 

Mello smashed the shuffled cards back together, nodding. “Precisely. I assume a seasoned card shark such as yourself knows the rules?”

 

“I assume a seasoned mafia boss such as yourself knows how to shut up and deal?”

 

Mello laughed and dealt the cards, two face-down each plus a series of five community cards as the game progressed. The point was to make the best poker hand, but Light had less control in this game than he did in blackjack, even with Ryuk’s help. At the end, when they’d assembled their best hands, Light waited for Ryuk to call out Mello’s final cards.

 

Ryuk hovered over Mello’s shoulder, scratching his chin. “Er….Light-o….you ain’t gonna like this but….he’s got a royal flush.”

 

Light kept his poker face but was panicking internally that all his winnings might slip away. That was an unbeatable hand unless Light himself had a royal flush of another suit. And he didn’t. He glared down at his full house, a good hand in its own right but not good enough to beat that. He laid down his cards, three jacks and two 10s.

 

Mello frowned at him before showing his cards. “You look like you already know you lost.”

 

Light looked out the window, the Vegas lights alive for him, burning for him, and he tried to let the sourness of defeat fade into the background of next times and second chances. _Well, I guess you can’t win them all._ He crossed his arms and sighed, “Didn’t I?”

 

Mello laid down his cards, a royal flush just as Ryuk predicted. “Yeah, but there’s one tiny problem, Mr. Magician.”

 

Light looked back to Mello, “Oh?”

 

“I cheated.” Mello leaned over the table, turning over the cards from the bottom of the deck. Kings, queens, aces. He’d been pulling from the bottom of the deck and Ryuk hadn’t even seen it. “I've got some magic of my own.”

 

Light clenched his fist under the table, but relaxed it slowly as he broke into laughter. “Yeah, point taken.” He picked up his cards and flicked them at Mello. “We're two of a kind I suppose.”

 

Mello leaned back, pulling a silver cigarette case from his pocket and flicking it open. “How do you think I spotted you?” He took a cigarette out and lit it, blowing a large cloud of smoke to the side. He held out the case to Light across the table, and he took one, placing it in his mouth for Mello’s flame. “A little advice...if you hadn’t been so greedy you’d have been tougher to catch. That’s the tell for cheaters.”

 

“Well if you cheated too…” Light considering whether this was a win or a loss as the nicotine rush hit him. “What about my money? I promised myself I wasn’t leaving without a million. And I always keep my promises.”

 

Mello swept all the cards off the table as he climbed up onto it, crawling towards Light. “In that case, I’ll just have to see if your 'magic' is worth a million dollars or not.”

 

“I see now why you didn’t get a _straight_.” Light smirked confidently up at Mello, a gamble if he ever saw one. “But yeah, I'm worth it.”

 

“Aren’t you a joker…” Mello grabbed Light’s tie, jerking his face closer. “And why are you so sure you’re worth it, hmm?”

 

Light whispered to him, their lips barely separated, “Because this joker’s _wild_.”

 

Mello hummed as he stared at Light's lips, incredibly turned on by the defiance in those amber eyes. “It’s only fair we both get naked, seeing as how we’re both awful no-good crooks.” His fingers dug into the knot of Light's tie and undid it, and he yanked it away. "Usually I'd say a piece for a piece, but you're so overdressed I'd be waiting all night."

 

"And you're barely wearing anything at all, you'd be naked before I took off my socks." Light's eyes roved appreciatively over Mello's slim body, clad in form-hugging red leather pants and a black vinyl vest. "Not that I'd complain about that."

 

”Well that just leaves the old fashioned way then.” Mello undid the first few buttons on Light’s shirt, moving from the tabletop to straddle his lap. "Or are you afraid I'll find the device you used to cheat, you thief!" He crashed into Light's mouth while unbuttoning the rest, and pushed the shirt away to scratch at the toned chest and shoulders beneath. 

 

Light laughed through their kiss. "Still obsessing over that?" He grabbed Mello's hips and ground up against him as their furious kiss deepened. He squeezed Mello's ass, pushing his fingers down into those skin-tight pants. "You'll never figure it out."

 

Mello pulled back, eyes flashing with angry lust. "You've really got a death wish don't you?" But he unzipped Light's pants and slipped his hand in, grabbing hold of the hardness there and stroking as he licked and bit across his neck excitedly. 

 

Light stood up, pushing Mello flat onto the card table and yanking his pants away. "Not particularly. Got a few other wishes though." He held Mello's legs apart, and licked him in one long stroke from the base to the tip of his cock. "Like making you scream."

 

Mello grabbed Light's hair, pulling him back down to do it again. "Shit!" When Light started to suck, Mello knocked his head back on the table with a gasp, amazed at what that mouth was doing to him. He yanked off his vest, sitting up to watch Light take him further and further. He panted, "Not bad....ohhh god....but a million--" Mello cut off as Light covered his mouth with his hand, climbing up on the table on top of him. The look in Light's eyes said this was just the beginning, and it was going to be a long night.

 

——-

 

I woke up the next morning to Vegas' scorching dawn, feeling more than a little hungover and sore. But the events of the night before struck me like a thunderclap--he'd made me come so many times I ached, taken me on the table, the floor, up against the window in front of the whole goddamn Vegas strip. The first thought that came to my mind as I reached across the bed was 'more,' but he was gone of course. Probably halfway back to wherever he’d come from with my money in his bag. I didn’t even care about the money; he’d been 100% right about being worth a million bucks. Really, I was kicking myself for never getting his real name, now that I’d probably never see him again. But as I reached for my cell phone I saw something else on the nightstand. A joker’s card with a message scrawled on it:

 

 

> _I 'borrowed' one of your guns. Maybe you can get it back if you find me._

 

I flicked the card away but the nerve of him, it only made me want him more. First my money and now my gun...Who the hell did he think he was? How did he know my real name?

 

Well, I planned on finding out. 

 

I limped naked into the living room, surveying the mess. Stains on the couch and my teeth marks ripped into the pillows, the card table had finally collapsed under all the abuse, glasses shoved off the bar and broken. Apple cores littered the place although I didn't remember anything about that. But there it was, a gift he'd left me like a broken poker face. His handprint right on the window from where he'd smashed me up against it, the place he'd finally made me scream loud enough for every nightwalker to probably hear. Made me write that he was free to go with all his winnings and no one could stop him.

 

I pulled on my pants in a hurry, scrubbed my cum off the window pane, and radioed down to Jack. "Get your ass up here." Jack whistled at the chaos when he saw it, but didn't ask questions. Knew better than that. I pointed to the handprint, careful not to smudge it. "Dust this for prints, and be thorough. That smug fuck you let walk out of here, well, he took my gun."

 

Jack's eyes went wide at that, he knew what those golden pistols meant to me. More than his life, that much was certain. "B-but boss, he had a note you signed! Said he was free to go! I even called up here to verify and you said it was kosher."

 

I vaguely remembered something like that, Jack calling when I was more drunk than hungover, and cursed myself for just barking 'yes' and rolling back over in bed. "Well I didn't know he took my gun then, idiot." 

 

There was no point in berating Jack, it was my bad bluff, pure and simple. Only made all this worse, though. I watched Jack spring to action while eating a jumbo chocolate bar and sulking on the kitchen floor, and thought that maybe this thief wanted me to chase him, wanted me to track him down. Well, I had no problem playing that game, except I told myself he'd be the one screaming at the end of it this time. 

 

Didn't quite work out that way. I finally tracked him down to a ritzy loft in Tokyo, slipped inside and put my other gun to his neck. "I'm gonna blow your brains out." He just laughed and asked me what took so long, tossing me my lost gun. Threw me off so much that when he told me to sit down, I did. And when he told me he wanted to hire me for something even better than casinos, I listened. I never listened to anything so closely in my life. Turned out he didn't come to Vegas to bury his problems in the desert like all those other gullible dream-chasers. No, his dream sat on the coffee table between us, a thin black book that was all the ace he'd ever need. It was still a game to him though, and I wanted a seat at the table.

 

Yeah, I'll never forget when Yagami Light walked into my casino, fooling that place like Kira fools the whole world. Not a bad gig though, its got its perks for sure. And he only makes me call him boss when I scream.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ‘The Joker and the Thief’ by Wolfmother (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySjXFjLTagQ) that I listened to while writing this.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! I'd love your comments and thank you for reading! <3 I'm on tumblr: [kiranatrix](https://kiranatrix.tumblr.com)


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